Courting Fire
by Samwise Baggins
Summary: Slash! Sam and Frodo must deal with their private emotions: after Bilbo leaves, before Quest begins.
1. Invitations

Title: Invitations

Author: Sam  
Series: Courting Fire: 1 / 2

Rating: PG: Slash: M/M Relations, Angst  
Pairings: Frodo / Sam

Summary: Was it a dinner invitation or something more?  
Spoilers: The first two chapters of Fellowship of the Rings.

Category: Bookverse: after Bilbo leaves, before Ring Quest.

Disclaimer: LotR is a trademark of JRR Tolkien and his surviving children. I am in no way connected with these people, and I do not claim ownership to these characters, lands, or names. I have borrowed them to share a story... and most likely not a story Tolkien would have written, had he had the time or no. I am making no money from this, and it is just for my entertainment, and that of free entertainment to a select group of friends. Thank You.

Distribution: Please ask first?

Setting: Bag End

Notes: This was written on special request by my friend and beta Sabrina. You know who you are... thank you!

Feedback: Please? I love comments: samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

* * *

After lighting the candle, Frodo stepped back with a smile. He surveyed his efforts with careful eyes: dark blue cloth on the table with matching napkins, ivory coloured plates, softly shining silverware with ivory handles, and crystal goblets. A small silver container of precious ice sat to the side of the table, a bottle of Old Winyard chilling. The aroma of roast meat with thick sauce, steamed vegetables from the garden, and freshly baked apple pie wafted on the gentle breeze created by the open window. The main lights had been darkened, leaving only the glow of fire and that single candle to light the warm room. Two heavy, ornately engraved chairs with thick cushions sat ready for the dinner for two.

Suddenly, apprehension spread throughout the dark-haired Hobbit's frame. He looked around, critically wondering if perhaps this was too much, too soon. Would it appear odd to his guest? What if his feelings weren't returned? This would look suspicious indeed. And if Frodo's feelings _were_ one-sided, it could frighten his guest away.

Nervously, Frodo put the candle out and glanced towards the front hallway. Now only the fire shed light over the cozy room. It seemed somehow more intimate than when the candle had been lit. That wouldn't do. Any little thing could turn this night into a huge disaster. As the forty-five-year-old Hobbit attempted to re-light the candle with shaking hands, he wondered at his own audacity. How could he have planned such a night? What if he disgusted...

With a shake of his head, Frodo pushed the fearful thoughts away. He could do this. He could go through the night as if nothing was abnormal about his feelings. He could convince himself and his guest that this was simply a dinner for two friends, nothing more. And he would hide his true feelings for the other Hobbit. It wasn't worth the risk... was it?

Frodo got the candle lit and sank into one of the heavy, carved chairs. He balanced his elbows on his knees, face in hands. What had he been thinking of to plan such a thing? There was no way this could be mistaken for an innocent evening of light conversation. It looked exactly as it was: a seduction.

He groaned and, leaning over the set table, he put out the candle once more.

"Mister Frodo?"

The voice right behind him made Frodo jump in fright, clutching his heart and gasping for air. He whirled around and flushed crimson. There was Sam, standing with hat in hand right next to the incriminating wine stand. He looked concerned and confused, glancing briefly over the still intimate setting then back at his employer.

"Mister Frodo? I knocked but you didn't answer. I was that worried I let myself in. Is something..." The gardener looked around again, grey-green eyes taking in the settings for two, the firelight, and the wine. He looked surprised then flushed a bit, nodding. "I see, Mister Frodo."

The gentlehobbit blanched, blue eyes growing larger in his normally pale face. "You... you do, Sam?" He cleared his throat to get rid of the suddenly dry feeling, the odd note.

Sam smiled, nodding, though he had an oddly disappointed look in his eyes. "Oh, of course I do, Mister Frodo. You invited me to dinner but forgot you had another guest supposed to come." He glanced around, eyes lingering on the wine. "One you'd be wanting to entertain alone."

Frodo watched Sam apprehensively. "What?"

"It's all right, Mister Frodo. I'm that flattered you invited me to sit at your table, but I don't mind. You're going courting and having me here would mess things up. Who ever heard of three during courting? I'll go back down home, sir, and leave you to your dinner." Sam was backing out of the room, smiling, though his eyes looked sad.

"No! Sam, I..." Frodo lunged out of his chair, reaching for his servant and best friend.

With a soft sigh and a shake of his strawberry curls, Sam turned his gentle gaze on his master. "Oh, no, Mister Frodo. I'm not offended. You forgot, plain and simple. We'll... we'll do this some other time, of course. I can wait; I'll always be here for you."

The chubby Hobbit shut his mouth quickly, as if suddenly afraid he'd said too much. He slipped his cap on his thick curls and bobbed his head respectfully at the older Hobbit. "Good night, Mister Frodo..." As he spoke, Sam was slipping out the door into the still, summer night.

How did this go so wrong? He hadn't even gotten a chance... Sam shook his head and started heading down the winding steps towards the front gate. What a foolish Hobbit he'd been, after all, thinking an invitation to dinner... Sam didn't see the confusion and disappointment in Frodo's eyes as he made his careful way down those steps. He was too lost in self-doubt and disappointment.

He'd noticed the way Frodo had been watching him since Bilbo's party. The older Hobbit would come to the window or door and simply stare, as if lost in thought, a slight smile on those full lips. At first the observation had made Sam self-conscious. He hadn't been sure why Frodo would _want_ to watch him. He was just a normal, everyday Hobbit working in the garden of his employer's home. But as the months had passed, Sam found his mind turning more and more to the unlikely, and abnormal, thought that Frodo _preferred_ him.

With a blush, Sam sighed. It had been an unsettling idea to begin with. What normal, healthy male Hobbit looked at another male, after all? But the idea wouldn't go away. And, with the slow passing of the seasons, Samwise Gamgee found himself slowly looking _back_ at Frodo.

He would find a time when Frodo seemed unaware of him and turn to let his eyes rove over the too thin Hobbit. Slowly, Sam became aware of just how _pretty_ his master was, just how delicate and attractive. The gardener wanted to drown every time their eyes met. But it wasn't humiliation that gave him that feeling; it was more of a feeling of breathless anticipation. His heart would seem to pause, then speed up, and his hands would start to shake just a bit.

Over those last twelve years Sam had let Frodo look at him and had looked his fill in return.

When Frodo had come out of the door yesterday at tea time, Sam had been working near the windows, trimming the grass right by the Hobbit Hole. He'd been startled, then breathless, watching the slim Hobbit approaching leisurely. When they had been right next to each other, Frodo spoke in a soft, almost breathless sounding voice. Sam had been too stunned by the dinner invitation to really note Frodo's bodily responses, though the younger Hobbit _had_ been aware of his own reactions: he'd been yearning for his friend.

It was embarrassing, of course, being attracted to another male. It was even more embarrassing now he realized that Frodo certainly hadn't been watching him out of interest. He'd most likely been checking on Sam's work and had invited him over to talk about something he wanted changed or improved. Sam had been a fool to think it might mean that Frodo was ready to move to another level in their relationship.

Sam flushed even harder and reached for the gate. As soon as he'd walked into the Hole, he'd realized his mistake. Bag End had been set up for a truly romantic encounter, not a clandestine, forbidden one. Somebody didn't arrange an intimate dinner with a Hobbit of the same sex unless he was very sure that he wasn't going to be rejected. As Sam had never even gotten a tender touch on the arm from his master, it had been sheer foolishness to think Frodo'd been looking for a next step in their non-existent relationship.

It took a moment before Sam realized his friend was calling to him. He had been as lost in thought as Frodo had a few minutes earlier.

"Sam, please? Answer me?" Frodo hurried down the front steps as Sam slowly turned. When his gardener paused, Frodo sighed in relief and stopped in front of him, reaching out a shaking hand to touch his arm. "Sam? Please, I..." he flushed as brightly as Sam, "I don't have anyone else coming over. The... the dinner is for you." His luminous eyes were filled with nervous worry.

"For... me?" Sam blinked grey-green eyes and frowned, puzzled. "But... Mister Frodo... the..." he wasn't able to make a turn-around in his thinking so quickly. Instead, the Hobbit was confused.

With a nod, Frodo tugged Sam's sleeve and guided him back up the steps towards the Hole. "Yes, Sam, for you. Please, come inside and eat? I... I wasn't finished setting up when you arrived..."

Sam let himself be guided, his mind turning over every factor, every layer of this revelation. As they walked inside, Frodo softly closing the door behind them, the younger Hobbit turned to the elder. "Mister Frodo? I don't rightly understand, sir. What would..."

Frodo would have flushed more if he could. "Uh, well... um..." But he fell silent, as did his companion, and they kept walking.

They arrived in the dining room once more and Sam glanced slowly around the room. He walked over to the table, leaving Frodo in the doorway. Hesitantly, Sam reached out to touch one of the crystal goblets then trail a finger across a soft linen napkin. He turned wondering eyes on his friend and employer.

"Mister Frodo? I'm still confused a bit, sir. I..." he paused then rushed ahead, taking the chance. "Sir, this looks as if you're courting, but you say it's for me. Does that mean..." his courage seemed to leave him for the moment, and Sam fell silent.

Frodo paled considerably. A long moment of silence passed between the two as neither looked away from the other. Slowly, Frodo raised a shaking hand to run through his dark curls. His voice was a bare whisper when he answered. "Yes... uh... Yes, Sam. It _is_ set up for courting." Now it would happen; he was sure of it. Sam would recoil in disgust.

The gardener still did not look away, as if he hadn't heard the words. He watched Frodo a very long moment. Finally, Sam turned and approached the table, studying it with intent eyes. He called out softly, "Mister Frodo... smells like that roast is done, sir."

Torn between thankfulness at the valid interruption and nervousness about what Sam might do or say next, the gentle-hobbit hurried into the kitchen. He took out the roast in question and added it to the rolling cart he'd stocked with all of the other food. Frodo wanted to take a long time over the chore, but he was afraid Sam would leave before he could make things better. Thus, he hurried back out, carefully pushing the cart.

Sam remained where Frodo had left him. He was still studying the table. In the darkened room, it was hard to read the expression in those soft soulful eyes. He hadn't bolted, but what was he thinking? What was he going to do?

The younger Hobbit watched as Frodo started putting food on the plates. Normally he would have taken the job over, but he didn't make a move to help. The older Hobbit worried his bottom lip between his teeth wondering if Sam was merely following dictates of etiquette by not taking over the chores as a guest or if he were frozen in disgusted shock. The tension was starting to make Frodo shake, and he nearly slopped gravy over the side of the plate.

When the places were ready, Frodo turned to Sam. In a soft voice, he made a slight choking sound, cleared his throat and tried again. "Uh... Sam? I... I know this is... abnormal for Hobbits. I mean, that... that I'd be... uh... courting you..." He flushed again as Sam's eyes, darkened to an unreadable green, met his. Where had the grace of his tongue gone? He needed it more than ever so that he could at least salvage their friendship, even if he couldn't have Sam as something closer he would still have him as a friend and most important of all, he would not lose him. "But... I... well, I guess I thought these last few years we've been getting closer in a way most males don't get." He wouldn't let Sam interrupt, holding up a hand so he might finish what he was saying before the other Hobbit told him goodbye forever.

"Well, Sam, I can see that it's an idea that kind of grew up in my own head. I'm sorry I misread anything you might've been feeling. I... Sam, I value your friendship. I won't make you uncomfortable. Please? Just... just don't leave for good, Sam?" It had come out all wrong, and Frodo held his breath, waiting for the disgust to come through from his friend.

There was a long pause as Sam studied his master's face, looking for something apparently. Finally, slowly, as if to answer all of Frodo's fears and doubts, he spoke. "Mister Frodo, if we don't sit down the food will get cold." He slid into a seat.

Frodo blinked, then smiled thankfully, glad Sam would treat this as if it were a regular dinner between them. He joined his friend at the table and smiled. "I could light the candles, Sam," he gestured towards the candles in the chandelier overhead. "I put the one out since it seemed too much like... well... seduction." He flushed, especially when Sam's head shot up and he froze, fork at his lips, watching Frodo with an intent, unreadable expression.

Sam put his fork down and moved off without asking, lighting a spill at the fire. He came back to the table where Frodo sat looking confused. As Sam slipped into his seat, Frodo's eyes widened in dawning comprehension. His chest tightened and he felt like he could fly.

Sam lit the candle.

Continued in Chapter Two: Requests


	2. Requests

Title: Requests 

Series: Courting Fire: 2 / 2

Rating: R: Slash: M/M Relations, Slight Angst, Sexual Innuendos  
Pairings: Frodo / Sam

Summary: We all know Sam winds up with Rosie, but if he loves Frodo so much, _why_ does he even look at Rosie?

Feedback: Please? I love comments: samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

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The guests were gone, the Hole was silent, and the fire was guttering low in the grate. With a happy sigh, Frodo turned to look over his home, tired eyes picking out spills which needed scrubbing, dishes which needed gathering, a score of tasks to set Bag End back to rights. It would take some hours to repair the damage caused by the party, but it had been worth it.

For the last thirteen years Frodo had been living alone, or as near alone a Hobbit in his own hole could live. He'd taken up the strange habit of celebrating Bilbo's birthday despite the older Hobbit's departure. Other Hobbits might talk about how odd he was, but it never stopped them from joining in the double birthday celebration. Another year would pass and Frodo would be one year older and one year lonelier.

Actually, as of that summer, his life had taken on a new twist. It wasn't lonely anymore. Frodo had found a lover. True, they hadn't actually gone to bed yet, but they'd only been admittedly, if secretly, courting for the last three months. If the Shire ever found out about their affair, though, it would most likely wreck both their lives. Frodo was halfway outcast anyway, so it wouldn't bother him to shout his love from the hilltops and take the exile that came with it. But he couldn't do that to the Hobbit he loved in a way which was all but forbidden in the Shire.

The sound of a door softly closing drew Frodo out of his reverie. With a soft smile, he glanced around, eyes lighting further as he confirmed his suspicions on who had entered. He held out his hands and sighed, "Hello... love."

Samwise Gamgee smiled, his weary green eyes immediately locking with his companion's large blue ones. Taking the soft hands in his larger, callused ones, the gardener of Bag End drew his master closer. With a happy murmur, he slid his strong arms around the seemingly delicate Hobbit and buried his face in the other Hobbit's neck.

It felt right to be here, in Frodo's arms. Since he'd been courting with Frodo, Sam had learned how to keep his love for the older Hobbit secret while still doing those extra things a lover might. Nobody had caught on, it seemed, and they had been spending nights talking and holding one another for the last three months. The only thing wrong with their entire clandestine affair was the fact that Sam wished Frodo'd go a bit faster. It had been thirteen years since they'd started looking at one another. True, Sam hadn't reached his majority until that summer, but now that he had, it only seemed right that they make up for lost time.

Only, Frodo didn't seem to be thinking along the same lines.

After a long moment, Sam pulled back from Frodo's embrace. He smiled and moved to pick up some of the dirty dishes left littering the room. A touch on his arm, tender and tempting, stopped him.

"Sam, come, leave it for now. You work far too hard as it is. You should enjoy my birthday as much as I do." The dark-haired Hobbit turned his friend around and smiled softly. "Come on, have a seat with me before the fire?"

With a nod, Sam moved towards the comfortable chair and slipped into it, only realizing after he had already sat that it was Frodo's customary seat. He frowned and looked around, but his own habitual seat had been moved across the room by a guest earlier in the evening. Sam prepared to get up to retrieve it when Frodo slipped surprisingly easily onto his lap, facing him.

Frodo straddled Sam's lap, arms going around his neck. Still smiling that soft smile, he leaned close into his love. "Sam? I'm going to kiss you..."

His heart started thudding against his chest. Frodo's weight was comfortable on his lap, natural, as if they'd sat thus on numerous occasions. As his master brought those beautiful, full lips towards his own, Sam drew in a breath and held it, sighing as their lips met. The kiss was soft, questioning. Sam suddenly felt as if he couldn't get enough of the taste of Frodo. He pulled the other Hobbit back just as his lover tried to end the kiss. That action caused the kiss to deepen as Frodo once more started to kiss him.

Long moments passed as the two of them explored one another's mouth, caressed the other's body, revelled in the feeling of completeness that had settled over the cozy scene. As Sam finally let Frodo draw back, both panting a bit for air, a hush seemed to descend around them and Sam blushed.

"Oh, Frodo... I..." He ran a hand up over Frodo's head, tangling his strong fingers gently in the dark curls he found. "That was like nothing I've ever felt before." How could he explain just how the kisses had moved him? How to talk about the tightness in his chest, the drumming of his heart, the beautiful scent and feel and _being_ of Frodo? Sam didn't have the words and so fell silent.

A tender smile crossed Frodo's too pale face. He leaned over and touched his forehead to the younger Hobbit's as he enjoyed the comfortable petting from those sure, strong hands. "Oh, Sam... how I've wanted that for so long." He lay his head on his lover's shoulder, smiling dreamily. "Why was I foolish enough to wait so long to tell you how much I..."

Sam waited, breathless himself now, for Frodo to finish that sentence. He wanted those words... needed those words. The feeling he felt was ageless, despite their genders, and he wanted to hear the Hobbit he loved echo those feelings. Unfortunately, a long moment passed with Frodo's words left unspoken. Sam had to withhold a sigh of disappointment.

More moments passed as Frodo continued to cuddle with Sam. He could feel the disappointment in his lover, but he still couldn't speak the words. Calling Sam 'love' as a pet name and coming right out and admitting his deep feelings were two very different things. He wanted to, but something held him back. There was some last lingering doubt in his mind about turning Sam so completely away from the normal life of a good Hobbit lad. Could he really do that to Sam?

Unaware of the troubled thoughts in his lover's mind, Sam determined that it was up to him to expose his heart first. He thought Frodo might be uncertain or somehow shy. If he opened himself up, surely Frodo would follow? And when he did, Sam knew his heart would never stop singing.

"Frodo..."

Sam smiled softly as Frodo raised his lovely blue eyes. The Hobbit on his lap returned that same soft smile, and Sam's heart got ready to burst into song. A strange, nervous flutter went through his stomach, but Sam ignored it. "Frodo... I love you." He flushed, smiling and waiting.

Frodo blinked in surprise. Sam had just admitted their love out loud. He had just taken a brave, bold step that might never be erased or altered. He had given himself to this unnatural relationship between them. It made Frodo want to cry, it was so sweet. "Oh, Sam..." He cupped his servant's face and kissed him again, a deep kiss of hunger and need.

"My Sam..." The forty-six-year-old tried to say the words back to his lover, tried to be just as brave, but they wouldn't come. He fell silent, eyes sad and frown starting to fix itself in place. He could feel Sam's disappointment, as well. It was in the way his shoulders drooped just a bit and a dozen other bodily clues Frodo had come to understand. That strengthened his resolve and he tried again. "My Sam, I... I love you, too."

Eyes wide in wonder, Frodo met Sam's darkening green gaze. He smiled and Sam smiled back. Then their lips met in another searing kiss, this one including caressing hands starting an inexperienced quest over one another's body. A soft groan came from deep in Sam's chest as Frodo repositioned himself, accidentally thrusting their most sensitive areas together. Frodo lifted his head with a gasp.

"Oh, Sam... You..." Frodo kissed him again, forcefully this time. He tangled his hands roughly in Sam's strawberry curls, tugging him flush against his own yearning body. Suddenly, the years behind them seemed too long, the years ahead not long enough. "Oh, Sam, I _do_ love you, I _do_! Kiss me, Sam..."

Sam complied, instinctively opening his mouth to let Frodo's tongue slide against his own. The taste was sweet, the feeling erotic, and Sam was beginning to lose himself completely. His lover's next words, however, acted as a bucket of cold water, effectively drowning the building passion and clearing Sam's fogging brain.

"You need a wife, Sam."

"What? Frodo, I love _you_." He looked confused, uncertain.

With a soft smile, Frodo pulled Sam back into another, more gentle kiss. "Listen to me, my beautiful Sam." He forced Sam to meet his eyes. "You were made to have a family. And you won't have one without a wife." Putting a gentle finger over Sam's bruised lips, Frodo silenced any protest. "Not now, Sam, but someday. I want you to look around a bit and find a nice Hobbit lass you can love. I want you to court her and marry her and have lots of babies. And someday, I want you to die a happy Hobbit."

"Mister Frodo," the words were instinctively formal. Sam was trying to protect his confused heart. "If we love each other, why would you push me away?" He hated how pathetic he sounded, whining about this.

Frodo heard the confused sadness in Sam's voice and kissed him softly. "Sam, I'm not pushing you away. I plan to be with you as long as may be. But you deserve a family. Trust me Sam, your heart will yearn for children one fine day, and I can't give those to you."

"I'll adopt, like Mister Bilbo did you."

"Oh, Sam..." Frodo laughed softly, but not unkindly. "Sam do you know how much I love you?" He didn't give Sam a chance to respond, answering his own question. "I want to live forever just to be with you until the end of time. I want to lie with you and let you possess me and to possess you. I want it to be just the two of us, and I want to shout it from the hilltops so everyone knows my heart belongs to Samwise Gamgee." He smiled.

Hesitantly, Sam smiled. "But if you want all that, why tell me to find a wife, Frodo?" Somehow, knowing all that made the request seem more of a joke than a serious demand. He was wrong, however. Frodo wasn't joking.

Running a gentle hand over Sam's sensitive, pointed ear, Frodo nodded. "Because I want to see and hold your children, my love." It was getting easier to say the words, and Frodo wondered why he'd even balked at saying them. "I want to dance at your wedding to a pretty young lass. I want to be able to show off the best Hobbit in town as the one that deserves most to be respected and loved. I..." he paused, but added the last any way, "I want everyone to think you're normal so you are never shunned, my love."

Sam took this all in, silent and thoughtful. After a very long moment, he nodded. It was a difficult idea, but he understood the reasoning. "Frodo, I will look. But please don't force me away? I love you. Will..." he frowned as he felt a sudden streak of jealousy, "will you also be wanting a wife?"

Frodo shook his head. "No, Sam. I'm not meant to marry. I'm meant to enjoy your children, but none of my own flesh. I've always known that." He stroked Sam's cheek with a quiet smile playing on his pale alluring lips.

The lighter haired Hobbit sighed, thinking. Slowly, so slowly, he raised his eyes to Frodo's and nodded. "Yes. I think you may be right, Frodo. I... I do want children to love and raise. And... and I do like the lasses, too." He flushed, feeling disloyal to his new love.

With a laugh, Frodo kissed Sam. "See? I knew it!"

"You aren't bothered, Frodo?"

"Why should I be? I know you love me, Sam. I love you. We'll be together as long as we may, but I'll rest easy knowing you've got a wife and children in the future sometime. But for now, let's think about us." Frodo started kissing his lover once more, this time purposely thrusting against Sam, feeling their building desire. This felt wonderful, exciting... right.

It was much later, wrapped in the heady embrace of Sam's strong arms, head still on that warm shoulder, that Frodo realized it had been his best birthday yet. Sitting there in Sam's lap in front of the fire, sharing words of love and soft kisses, imagining the still unknown passion their future would bring: Frodo couldn't think of a way he'd rather spend his forty-sixth birthday. The gift of Sam's love, and the return gift of his own, made the days seem more complete than they'd felt since Bilbo left.

What more could a Hobbit ask for?


End file.
